


Until I just dissolve

by orphan_account



Category: No Particular Fandom, The Other Boleyn Girl - Philippa Gregory, The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Canon Divergent, F/M, Implied Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-18 03:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16986930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account





	Until I just dissolve

The moon waxes and wanes, uncaring of the queen's predicament, locked in the Tower. It casts a dull, yellow light through the small windows as Cromwell climbs up the narrow, stone steps.

She's grown much paler, thinner, frail-looking since he's seen her last. Yet, still looking as just as queenly, dressed in one of her royal gowns, rising hastily from the floor to stand before him.

"Master Cromwell?" Blue eyes confusedly gaze at him when he appears at her door. The room illuminated solely by a candle on the floor by the thin blankets she sleeps on.

"Your majesty," he bows. She has no right to that title now, but he can't bring himself to call her less.

"Do you have news? Has the king pardoned me? Am I free?" Her voice is frantic, her eyes wild.

"No," his own voice cracks. "No, I'm sorry. So sorry. I - " he doesn't know what to say, if there's anything to say. They are not friends. She doesn't know him other than her husband's secretary. She has never even spoken to him before. 

"I wanted to see you - to see if you are well?" He winced, how can she possibly be well in this ghastly situation.

She doesn't answer. Her expression wilts as her shoulders droop and she makes her way to sit on the sheets on the floor once more.

"Your majesty... I... have some parchment, if you wanted to write to the princess?" He says uncertainly.

"And what would I say, my poor Elizabeth," she shakes her head, not looking at him - as if she stalking to herself. " - my beautiful child. She needs her mother - how can he do this to the mother of his daughter?"

When she falls silent, Cromwell thinks maybe he shouldn't have come.  
~

Against all his reasoning, he goes to see her again in a few days. Her food is left untouched, her hair in disarray, her clothes unchanged even though he knows the servants came to take her to bathe today. 

He tries to talk to her, get her to eat. Her eyes watch the wall opposite her.

He thinks telling her of Henry's plans about another marriage will anger her enough to make her respond.

He's wrong.

The only thing that interests her any more seems to be Elizabeth.

"She is still the princess, your majesty. The king has made no action against her."

She nods at him silently, relief clear in her expression.   
~

The king seems to have forgotten about Anne altogether. For months pass, and the former queen remains a prisoner. There's a new woman on the throne, more women in the king's bed, life of court has moved on and no one remembers the old queen except her daughter and Cromwell.

He goes to visit her as often as he is able. Sometimes she gives him letters for Elizabeth, mostly she sits there in silence.  
~

"The princess wishes to write to you," he pleads. "She wants to see you, it can be done. I can bring her - "

"No!" Anne shakes her head vehemently, silencing him. "You cannot! I'll not endanger her. She must be safe, she - Elizabeth must never be associated with me in any way."

"Your majesty..." he starts to assure her and suddenly she's laughing.

"Why do you still call me that? I'm not queen anymore, I'm nothing. Less than nothing. My name dragged through mud..."

He stays silent. He sees the unshed tears in those dark eyes and turns away. Clenching his fists to keep from reaching out to her, offering her useless comfort.  
~

Slowly, she recovers. He can see her eyes brightening every day, more color in her cheeks, she even smiles every so often.

"The princess Mary is permanently residing at court." He tells her. "She's been given back her title."

"And my Elizabeth? What of her?"

"She's the same, Anne. Fear not. The king is a doting father to both his daughters."

"He is incapable of caring for anyone, anything apart from his whores, as we both know, my lord." Anne retorts. "So if Henry dies, Mary will be queen."

"Your girl will come to no harm, Anne, I will protect her with my life."

"I pray it doesn't come to that, old friend," she whispers.

"Does he ever speak of me?" Anne asks him one day. She's been here nearly a year now.

"No, Anne," he says. "And it's better that way. If he doesn't remember you, then he can't harm you."

"And what of my family?"

"Only the lady Mary visits court sometimes, but she lives with her husband now." He answers.

"And what of the king? Who is his new queen?" Cromwell presses his lips together at that question. "He must have married as soon as he got rid of me." Anne says.

"What does it matter, Anne?"

She shrugs. 

"He's married Jane."

"Jane Seymour?" Anne gives a snort of laughter when he nods in confirmation. "My, how fitting! My own ladies replacing me."

There's a strange expression on face. Something wistful, something bitter - 

"And has she given him a son yet?"

"No, but... she's in confinement - due any day now."

Anne remains silent.  
~

"Do you know I can hear the river from here?" Anne says. "I can hear the water, the seagulls, the men singing."

Cromwell offers her the warm bread and sweet honey he'd bought for her when she'd asked him. "The princess sends her love. She's still insistent on seeing you, Anne."

"And you know my thoughts on the matter." She tears off a careful chunk from the bread, "This is just as good as I remembered."

Cromwell simply watches her eat. 

"I will not take any risks with her so long as Henry lives." 

"As you wish, Anne."

"One day my Elizabeth will be queen. I don't know if I'll live to see that day but, I know my daughter will make a fine, English queen. England's very own rose."

"She is certainly as strong as her mother. Which is very strong indeed." He agrees. "And just as beautiful. Apart from the Tudor hair, she is all you, she grows taller and more beautiful with each rising sun."

"Perhaps one day I'll be free, I'll ride a boat on the river, see London once more..."

Anne looks utterly forlorn and Cromwell feels his heart twist.  
~

"It's a boy." He tells her. 

"What wonderful news! A son at long last!" Anne's voice is bitter ice. "How tragic it would be, if something were to happen to Henry's beloved son."

"Pray to God, no," Cromwell pinches his nose. "This madness has to stop. Henry's obsession with a son has gone too far - it must stop now."

Anne looks him but her eyes are unseeing, far away. "My lord, you don't understand." She laughs. "Henry is cursed. His boy is cursed through him. His little whore is cursed too. They have stolen my life, they have ruined me, my name. My family. Henry will pay for each and every one of my tears before he dies a very, very sad death."

There's fire in her eyes as her gaze focuses on him once more - and Cromwell is struck silent by the power in her words, the strength in her conviction.

"I tell you this now. Henry and all his male children are cursed now and forever. He will never put a son on his throne. His whores will not grant him another child, he doesn't deserve that happiness."  
~

Cromwell watches the king despair over the queen as she slowly, but surely, fades. Her life draining, her body weakening every day. She never recovers from childbed.

The king doesn't even visit her on her deathbed. 

Cromwell is rather surprised when he ordered a queen's funeral for her. He'd thought Henry was too busy finding his next victim - er, his next wife.  
~

He cautiously relays the news to Anne. 

"Pity. She was a lovely girl, I'm sure."

"You cursed them. You knew this would happen." He chokes on his words.

Anne turns to him. "I only said he'd get what he deserves. Nothing more, nothing less."

"And the boy? What of him?"

"Cursed through the actions of his father... his will be the only death I will regret." She looks at him then, and there's something in her eyes that speaks genuine sorrow. "I will pray for him, but the die has been cast."

"You scare me, Anne." He whispers.

She blinks at that. "You are scared of me? I thought I made it clear I care for you." She moves towards him as if in placation and comes to stand close to him. 

Too close.

"Anne." He closes his eyes when her hand comes to rest on his cheek.  
~

Prince Edward is a sickly child from day one and Henry goes mad over his care. No doctor in the country wants to see to the prince for fear of the king's wrath. It's obvious to everyone that the little boy is likely to follow his mother sooner or later. 

"The prince is dead." Cromwell tells her.

"May God call his soul to heaven without delay, for having a monster for a father is no crime of his own." Anne says crossing herself and mumbling a prayer.  
~

Anne is standing by the doors of her cell when he comes to see. As if she had been waiting for him. Her eyes trained on him as he fits the key in the lock.

"It's been a month." She says as soon as he steps inside.

"Change of guards," he sighs. "Had to bribe a new one for this. Took a handsome price too."

"I thought..." he sees her hesitating, " - that you got tired of me." 

Cromwell starts. "The only reason for you'd not see me again would my death, Anne." He assures her.

To his surprise Anne eyes become damp, her face overcome with emotion.

"I have wondered many times, why you come here? Why you risk the king's lethal anger?" Those dark, dark eyes are trained on him, shining.

"Anne - " he stutters. He didn't even realise how swiftly she'd closed the distance between them that her face is barely a few inches before his own. 

"I thought you were a spy, sent to get my confession. But then..." she gently grabs one of his arm resting limply by his side to bring it around her waist before sliding her own arms around his neck. "You came to see me, _you came for me_ , didn't you?" 

"I - I ... Anne," he doesn't dare move a muscle. He can't even begin to fathom how they'd gotten to this point, how she'd found out what he'd desperately tried to hide from her. "I did. I am here because I care for you."

"My lord... Thomas." It's only when she pulls him down to seal their lips together does he give himself permission to move, unlocking his limbs from their stiff position before tightening them to bring their bodies as close as possible.  
~


End file.
